


There Have Been Other Nights in Jail

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-20
Updated: 2010-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been other nights in jail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Have Been Other Nights in Jail

It wasn’t surprising to him that - in the long years in which he has been a friend and companion in crime solving to Sherlock Holmes - the _infuriating_ man has earned them a night in jail, on more than one occasion. In fact this was the fifth time that Watson could say he’d been forced to suffer such an indignity and that was just this year. Unfortunately it was only August leaving several more months to come. He was loathe to consider that he would see another jail cell before the year was out since his good fortune had thoroughly soured since he had become acquainted with Holmes. He had sworn to himself the last time that _this_ had happened that it would be the very last time he spent any time in jail for Holmes.

Yet here he was, in another jail cell again.

So Watson was furious and determined not to speak a word to Holmes until they were out of this miserable country, out of this miserable, _cold_ jail cell, back in England, and especially back to the familiar walls of 221B Baker Street. And even then he doubted he would speak to the man for month.

“Oh, come on now, Watson,” said Holmes with entirely too much good humor in Watson‘s opinion, “you can not possibly still be angry at me.”

Watson didn’t even turn to glare but instead pulled down the brim of his hat until it covered his eyes. He huddled back against the corner where he had tucked himself in order to get as far away from Holmes as he could manage within the confines of the small cell. Watson would have asked for the mercy of a separate cell of his jailers if he spoke the native tongue. Since he didn’t, he was going to pretend that he was alone in the cell.

“I can‘t possibly be held to blame for the sensitivity of the lady simply because I refused her attentions,” Holmes continued.

Watson ground his teeth for a moment before he forced himself to stop out of the certainty that he would cause damage to his dental enamel.

“-and how was I do know that the man would react in such a horrendous fashion to being told that he slept with his brother’s wife every week when he demanded a demonstration of my detective skills.”

“Is that what you said?” asked Watson, unable to help himself. He had been curious - mostly angry - but also curious when their jailer - who was also the head of the police force - had reacted with anger to Holmes‘ words.

“Yes and I don‘t see how that warranted taking away my clothes or should I say, your clothes,” said Holmes. The sulkiness in his tone gave Watson the firm mental image of Holmes pouting like a child.

Watson pushed up the brim of his hat to see that Holmes really was a pitiable sight.

The weather outside the jail was bitterly cold and threatened snow. The indoors of the jail were not much of an improvement with iron barred windows that were open to the elements. The only padding the cell had was old straw that was strewn around the floor. Into these conditions they had been left, without so much as a blanket or a mattress to provide softer accommodations.

And Holmes in a fit of stupidity - that he no doubt thought as genius - had angered the warden of this jail and had been forcibly stripped of his coat, and outer jacket leaving him only in shirtsleeves.

Watson had the only coat between them.

Even with the dim orange light of the torch that burned a few feet from the door to their cell, Watson could see the shivers that wracked Holmes’ body. And his lips were turning a rather distressful looking shade of blue.

“I am going to regret this,” Watson sighed and edged out of his coat. “Come on then,” he said grudgingly.

“Watson, you truly have a generous nature that is a marvel to behold,” said Holmes as he promptly sat next to him and practically burrowed into Watson’s side.

Watson bit back a hiss at the icy feel of Holmes’ hands sliding under his inner jacket. He was stunned by the press of chilled lips to his own before Holmes dug his cold nose right against the bare skin of his neck.

Watson flinched and stared down at the top of Holmes‘ head. Before he could gathered his scattered wits enough to protest Holmes’ taking advantage, a gentle snore from the vicinity of his collarbone told him that such efforts would be thoroughly wasted.

The infuriating man was already asleep.

Glaring at their gloomy surroundings Watson realized that he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He was too aware of Holmes’ body and the heat that was flushed all along his front. He pondered how much more relaxed he would be if he strangled Holmes. It was such an incredibly tempting idea that his gloved hands flexed.

That’s when Holmes chose to sigh happily and press even closer, his body now resting more fully against Watson’s own. Watson gasped as Holmes’ hands slipped down from his sides to his hips.

Watson’s cheeks flushed and he sighed again.

It was going to be a long and excruciating night.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I just know that Holmes has had them tossed in jail. A lot. Heh.


End file.
